


Selling It

by katikat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 05:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14037204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: Mac has to sell that he and Murdoc are lovers. (Unbeta'd)





	Selling It

**Author's Note:**

> Just a self-indulgent short scene written for this bunny: For some reason, Mac has to go undercover as Murdoc again. But then the real Murdoc shows up and suddenly, he has Mac’s life literally in his hands. If he says one word about Mac’s true identity, Mac’s toast. But Murdoc decides not to. Because this is way too much fun. And so, Murdoc introduces himself as “Angus MacGyver, Murdoc’s… associate.”

“An…  _associate_ , huh?” the gun trafficker chuckles. “I heard about you swinging both ways, Mr. Murdoc, but I definitely did  _not_ expect  _this_.” 

He waves his hand at them, at Mac pretending to be Murdoc and at Murdoc playing the role of Angus MacGyver, an innocent bystander and… apparently, Murdoc’s  _lover_ , at least in their  _client’s_ eyes.

Mac freezes, swallowing hard.

“ _What?!”_ Jack snaps through the comm.

“And what did you expect?” Murdoc asks in a rather acerbic voice as he slinks over to Mac and wraps his arms around him. “Some twink hanging off his arm? A hapless creature who faints at the first sight of a gun?”

Mac shudders, not caring if Murdoc can feel it or not, and his insides twist into a hard, cold knot.  _Let go. Let go!_

The gun trafficker leans back in his armchair and sips whisky from his glass. His expression turns speculative, almost suspicious. “Well, Murdoc here doesn’t look all that happy to see you, Mr… _MacGyver_ , was it? I’m starting to _wonder_ …”

He has to do something. Mac has to distract the man somehow because if he starts thinking about it too hard, about this meeting, he’ll definitely notice all the discrepancies that have, so far, flown under his radar. 

If only they had more time to prepare for this mission! If only Murdoc hadn’t showed up from nowhere, intent on playing his games…

 _“Mac…”_ Jack’s voice in his ear sounds wary.

Without thinking about it further - if he thinks about it, if he  _truly_ thinks about what he’s about to do, he’ll never be able to do it - Mac turns around in Murdoc’s arms and grabs him by the front of his black shirt. Murdoc’s eyes widen a little - he really surprised him this time, it seems - but he doesn’t resist when Mac pulls him down and…  _kisses_ him.

It’s a hard kiss, more of a battle of lips and teeth and tongues, and Mac closes his eyes because he needs to sell this, he needs to sell this  _real good_ or they’re dead - well, _he_ ’s dead, Murdoc would probably find a way to save his hide - and he can’t do that if he’s looking at the man he’s kissing.

It lasts only a moment, the kiss, but it seems like a small eternity to Mac. He’s so focused on keeping his feelings under control that he doesn’t even notice that Murdoc’s hands are on his back, on his _lower_ back, on his  _ass_ until he pulls back, breathing in sharply. He almost shoves Murdoc away, almost ruins the whole performance - _almost_! - but he doesn’t. In the end, he manages to keep his reaction in check,  _somehow_.

Then he makes the mistake of looking up - and he sees Murdoc staring down at him with a dark gleam in his eyes and a wide, satisfied grin on his kiss swollen lips. He licks them almost lewdly. And Mac squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and shudders again. He hopes, he _prays_ that their audience will take it as a sign of desire, not of disgust.

There’s the sound of slow clapping and when Mac turns around, he sees the gun trafficker watching them with lecherous amusement. “Oh, I see the attraction now, Mr. Murdoc.”

 _“Mac, what did you do?”_ Jack’s whisper sounds shocked.

“Satisfied?” Mac asks in a freezing cold, dark voice.

“Oh,  _very_ ,” the gun trafficker almost purrs.

Mac steps forward, away from Murdoc. “Can we now get down to business?”

“Yes, _please_ ,” Murdoc adds, moving closer to Mac again, indifferent to Mac’s shiver, and whispers in Mac’s ear, “I can’t wait for the follow-up.”

Mac swallows, tasting bile, and stares straight ahead, at the man he came to arrest, at the guns in their wooden crates, so out of place in the antique room, at the whisky in the crystal decanter, gleaming warmly in the light of the flames, burning low in the fireplace…  _anywhere_ but at Murdoc, pressed against his side.

 _“Jesus,”_ Jack breathes through the comm.  _“Jesus, Mac… you didn’t!_ Jesus _!”_

The gun trafficker gets up from his armchair and rubs his hands. “Alright, then, back to business, Mr. Murdoc…”


End file.
